Going Local

Posted on Mon Oct 22nd, 2018 @ 1:45am by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Thex sh'Zoarhi & Lieutenant Commander Sonak & Lieutenant Asa Dael & Ahreva Malana
Edited on on Sun Nov 4th, 2018 @ 1:52pm

Mission: Hera v Hera
Location: Meroset 347, capitol city
Timeline: 2395, Battle of Hera's Planet

Flying out of the sun on a calculated trajectory and timetable from the star's position to the targeted landing zone while maintaining sensor blindfold for the opposing force, the runabout Thor managed to sneak onto Hera’s Planet undetected. Some low-altitude maneuvering led the landing party to a cave system large enough to hide the runabout from detection, and the landing party were now hurriedly stripping off armor and weapons to adopt local garb, which was proving to be mildly comedic. Togas and sandals and simple rope belts were the local fashion, and the landing party were emerging from the runabout clad in replications of ancient Greek fashion.

Duran-Yeager had changed from her armor into something appropriate, she didn't seem to mind changing into something that she wouldn't be caught dead wearing she had the mission in mind as she focused on that, blending in with everyone else was an excellent way to do that.

Malana's new outfit made it obvious that she was both well endowed and an alien so she held her arms out from herself and pointed this fact out. "I do not believe my disguise is acting as a disguise should. It seems to exacerbate the fact that I'm not of this world in many ways."

Sonak for his part had several centuries of vulcan experience in obfuscating racial features to blend in with the average humanoid species. A single very ancient Grecian-style head bandanna effectively covered both the point of his ears and the exaggerated arch of his eyebrows. Meanwhile, a simple cosmetic coloring pill took care of the geenish tinge of his skin. At worst he would look like a member of a mongoloid human strain, and his physique was the exact living embodiment of classical Greek masculinity. Blending in would not be a problem with him unless he was thoroughly examined; like someone looking for his heartbeat and finding it where his liver should be.

He was quite comfortable and at ease in the outfit as it was rather reminiscent of the old classical vulcan attire he used to wear on the Gol plateau. He helped some of the others adjust to the peculiar arm wearing of the toga and how to walk effortlessly in sandals. Hearing Malana, he offered a suggestion.

"I would recommend a holographic disguise; or if unavailable, there are very effective Andorian disguise techniques. Despite their very striking appearance, Andorians have been renowned as the best covert operatives in the Alpha Quadrant for centuries."

"How about more clothes? If we wrap you up like a leper, no one will want to take too close a look?" Paris suggested.

Peeling out of the armor hadn't been that big a chore, and the replicator had plenty of options available. Rita had chosen a criss-crossing toga top that wrapped about her form, showcasing her assets but not exposing them. The garment drew in tight about her waist, then down to form a flowing multi-leveled skirt that showed a generous amount of leg and thigh when she moved. Testing it for a few steps, she made adjustments. On her feet were convincing looking wrapped sandals whose sole had an arch support and a cushioned insole.

If there was a machine that made just about anything handy, Rita's policy was to ask for what you wanted, not what you could get.

"Connor, Palmiotti, Bunche, you three stay with the runabout. Stay suited up and ready for trouble, stay in contact. Check in at an hour, half hour then 15 minutes before zero hour." The first officer tapped the gold antique starburst of her comm badge, which just looked like elegant jewelry in this get-up. Next to it hung a modern reproduction of her old clamshell communicator which, with it's black case, gold piping and gold mesh snap cover looked like another rather smart accessory. "You're our ticket out of here, and if we run out of time, you know what to do. Blow the volcano and destroy the staging ground. The mission timer's running in the cockpit- Bunche, you're on that duty. You two stay on patrol here, and don't wander from the ship. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am," the trio offered somewhat in unison.

Malana replicated further wrappings and put them on, hoping the full coverings would somewhat disguise her as... some sort of servant or slave. "I have thus been mummified," she said, somewhat muffled.

"I know it's not ideal, but it's the best we've got. Also... since your outfit has some volume, grab a phaser or two and a tricorder, please, since you can keep them hidden away? Thank you, Miz Malana," As the scientist was a civilian, Rita couldn't order her, per se, despite it being an away mission. But she could ask, and she did.

"I already have my tricorders and I refuse to carry a phaser," replied Malana, shuffling closer to Rita in a subservient manner.

"If that's an issue for you, I can respect that, Miss Malana. As you were," Paris nodded. Nowhere to hide a phaser in this getup, but that just means I'll have to be clever.

Asa stepped out of the Thor looking mortified. They were not shy as such, but they had a bit of a mishap changing out of their armor and felt a bit awkward about going ass-over-teakettle when they got awkwardly tangled up in their toga.

The doctor wore what was traditionally a male toga that was intentionally running a bit large. They had secreted their knives on an improvised holster around their outer thighs. In a burlap bag they carried a phaser, tricorder, hypo, medicines, and emergency field rations. The belt around their waist was the appropriate gold tone for the local populace, but was sturdy enough to be used for rope in a pinch. The sandals they wore had thick straps around the ankles to help them climb if needed, and the doctor found themself thinking that it was nice to be in sandals again.

"Um, I figured go male since I'm obviously not a woman? I dunno. I never really know what to do in situations like this," they muttered to the ground. Remembering themself, the doctor walked around handing each crew member a canteen that looked fresh from an archaeology dig. "No need getting dehydrated, right?" they asked with forced cheerfulness.

Sonak nodded.

"Ancient Greece culture was, even for very rare exceptions like Sparta, notoriously quite misogynistic. In their language, "woman" was translated as 'kalonkakon' meaning 'beautiful curse.' In most city states, women were not even allowed out of their household. 'Going male' as you put it will allow you a lot more freedom of movement and action."

"Ahhh, misogyny," Paris mused with a sigh and a head shake. "Some things never change..."

Soon, Rita Paris would discover just how wrong she was.

After her last undercover assignment, Thex had been taking lessons. After using a spray on paint to hide her blue skin she had donned one of the short toga that would have been worn by household slaves. Her hair was done up to cover up her antenna which was aided by the pins and clips to hold it all in place. After donning her sandals She added two bracelets one of which had a holo projector to add another layer to cover her skin. Stepping into the main room the andorian gave her shipmates a grin. " How do I look?" She asked everyone.

The curvaceous commander offered polite applause. "Here's to our clever engineer, well done Ms. sh'Zoarhi!" Paris had a PaDD in her hand she'd produced from somewhere, and was tapping at a map of the capitol city onscreen. "Mister Sonak, do we have a fix on the transponder position? We're about four kilometers from the edge of the city, and it's a pretty large city. We need data to plot a course."

Duran-Yeager was wearing her own toga, in truth she felt very underdressed and she hated it but complaining about it was beneath her so she opted to simply let it go. "Very nice ma'am." she said to the Andorian engineer.

The vulcan looked at his small palm-sized tricorder which had been made at his request to look as a small folding wax tablet - including an actual wax coating on the back face and an actual bronze stylus - the kind used by intellectuals of Antiquity to teach others how to read and write or to make calculations in the era of burgeoning science. The actual circuitry could only be activated by his genetic code from his touch, which he now used to answer the exec's request.

"Transponder located, four point seven kilometers north-east of our current location. Estimated time of arrival at standard walking pace, twenty point five three standard minutes, taking into account the topography of the most direct route."

"Excellent, thank you Mr. Sonak. The clock's already ticking," Paris triangulated the transponder code to get a look at where they were headed in the city, made a few course adjustments, sent it to the science officer's tricorder then tossed the tablet at the nearest armored security officer. "Let's double-time it, people. At least until we're in sight of the city guards, to see if we can make up some time. And let's hope the Commodore has things set in motion for us, or this is liable to be our first and last costume party. Let's go!"

With that said, the first officer set out in the direction of the capitol city, those long legs put to advantage as she set a rapid pace with which any Starfleet personnel would be familiar and capable of maintaining, a double-speed marching pace.

As the group legged it towards the city, Asa decided it would be a good time to mention something that had been bubbling in their mind. "It occurs to me that for a religious based society, I may have a bit more experience than some of you. I was raised in what can only be called a cult, and I studied religion extensively during my deprogramming years on Bajor. When approaching religious officials, the head person, likely a man here, is going to be decked out in all kinds of fancy gold and whatnots. He is also likely going to be so self important and arrogant as to be unreachable for our purposes. People don't relinquish their own power easily or often."

Waiting for a nod of acknowledgement they were being heard, Asa continued, "However, their second in command is a prime target for our purposes. The second in command is either going to be so fed up with leadership, or so ambitious they want to take out the person lording over them, that they are open to the idea of revolution. It's likely this is who the previous team was already working to win over. This person will have almost as much adornment as the leader, but stand just behind them, or be on frequent errands for them. They will also be more likely to bark commands or other overt shows of authority as a means of proving themself to others than the actual leader. Those tend to have a lazy kind of arrogance, they know their orders will be obeyed, so they don't feel the need to make a show of it. Just food for thought, as it were, but this type of hierarchy has been seen in countless cultures," they concluded.

“Good to know, Doctor,” Paris responded, before drawing the landing party together to slow down to a marching pace as they approached the walled city. “Looks like we found a lesser-used gate… good work, Mister Sonak. It would appear we’re in luck, and there are just two Amazon guards, who would have thought? All right people, let’s stick together and hope for the best while we prepare for the worst. The clock is ticking, after all.”

With that said, Paris led the way toward the gate, a pleasant vapid smile on her face as she hoped for the best, knowing full well that good luck was not her stock in trade.

Duran-Yeager listened in silence as she walked beside her shipmates while she kept a discrete eye out for trouble.

The higher ranking Amazon raised a hand to hold up the group and addressed Rita since she was in the lead. "Hail sister! Praise Hera! We haven't seen anyone but local herbalists use this gate in a long time. What's your business here?"

“Hail to thee, sister,” Paris replied, realizing that her look didn't exactly match what she was about to say. Spreading her arms wide, the ancient astronaut lowered her head. “We are but humble pilgrims, come to see the great city and pay our respects at the high temple.”

The Amazon woman looked them over for several moments before shrugging and leaning back against the wall. "As long as you don't cause any problems and you keep your males under control, you can pass."

The other Amazon, obviously of lower rank, looked rather nervous. "Mira, you're going to get struck down if you keep this up..."

"Oh come on. What are these primitives going to do? Riot and force us to slaughter them like sheep again? Seriously Nala, lighten up." The one in charge was rather aggravated by the admonishment of her subordinate. "Safe travels ladies, and remember your prayers."

"Many thanks," Paris smiled genially, head bowed as she hustled the landing party through the gate and into the city.

Thex said nothing as the party moved away from the guards and into the city. Only when they were in a quiet spot with no one around did she speak up. " Well, that was unexpected." She said quietly. " Are you guys going to be okay?" She asked the members of the group who were dressed as men.

Duran-Yeager smiled as she continued beside the away team but then she was starting to assume that this was all a little too easy for her liking. She opted not to say anything unless it helped the mission.

"Our disguise has been successfully tested," Sonak observed out loud. "These guards are obviously sharp-eyed, but overconfident. This will facilitate our mission if we remain as careful as we have been so far. Our odds of success have improved."

He glanced briefly at his camouflaged tricorder.

"We are on course and on time."

"Excellent. Stay together and stay on course," Paris responded, eyeing the cityscape to try to determine their destination from the transponder coordinates. it seemed the local costumes were indeed doing the trick, and while she was getting sized up by a few locals, no one seemed hostile at least. "Miss sh'Zoarhi, please bring up the rear so you can insure no trouble befalls our non-female shipmates. Smartly, now!"

With that, the buxom blonde in the toga hustled in the direction of the transponder signal, the slender stern-faced male in the Grecian headband hot on her heels offering course corrections. The rest of the landing party kept close ranks as they closed on the structure from whence their contact the Commodore's signal emanated.

As they walked through the city outskirts, it was rather obvious that the women ruled and the men were treated as slave labor by the fact that women owned shops and hawked wares and were often well dressed while the men wore rags and often wore collars and a few times were seen being flogged by wealthy looking women in alleys. Roaming pairs of Amazons looked like they were meant to keep the peace but seemed disinterested in the day to day affairs of the populace except in the case of one male slave that seemed to mouth off to his owner - they summarily executed him on the spot.

Duran-Yeager watched as the male was murdered, this place reminded her much of her childhood, she wanted to go and try to help the male who had been murdered but she knew it would avail him nothing and only get herself killed in the process. She knew that this place was a powder keg with an antimatter warhead primed for detonation, all that was needed now was a simple spark.

Sonak lowered his gaze as he spoke with hushed tones to Rita, assuming the outwards signs of submission to better blend in with the observed behavior of the populace.

"Interesting; in Ancient Greece on Earth, only Sparta had women owning property and slaves or showing such freedom and authority; to the rest of Greece, this was what they imagined of a dystopia, born of their fear and disdain of women's will, character and spirit. The Hera entity obviously reshaped this society to her own whims. We should be cautious not to make assumptions and treat this as a first contact mission of a definitely alien culture only superficially resembling a Terran one."

“Agreed,” Paris muttered conspiratorially, at a volume that only sensitive Vulcan ears could hear. “I’m making no assumptions on this planet, trust me. When we get inside, see if you can narrow our search, Mr. Sonak”

All that aside, the semi-Grecian structures were easy to navigate and soon they had found the location of the signal - a multi-story scroll repository, if the signage was to be believed.

“All right, everyone inside,” Paris ordered. While a shop might or might not be the best place for the landing party to congregate, it was safer than on the streets with patrols. Once everyone was inside, Rita took a furtive glance around to insure they were not being followed nor that they had raised any suspicions, then ducked into the shop. The walls were crisscrossed with diagonal shelves filled with various parchments, quills, inks and kohl. Approaching the counter, Paris pulled out her most winning smile.

“Hello there…” Paris offered, wondering just how to surreptitiously ask the shopkeeper if they were harboring a feline admiral from another world. “I was wondering if you have any cat-themed scrolls…?”

The doctor quickly picked up on the comportment expected of male-presenting people and lowered their eyes in apparent supplication. They made sure to fall a few steps behind Rita and hunched over a bit as if from heavy labor.

Well, this place is prime for revolution, you can’t treat people like this and not expect revolution to flare up sooner than later, Asa thought.

“I am honored to witness you read, Mistress,” Asa spoke in a humble tone, “An honor that only women should ever possess, as it right in the eyes of Hera. We bask in the light of the holy mother, and in yours, her reflection.” The last sentence was said with a pointed glance at the non-women in the group as a way to hope to remind them of what was likely to be appropriate behavior. They knew if a “man” appeared to be reading that could make everything go wrong.

Getting the hint, Sonak approached Rita and offered her the tricorder camouflaged as a wax tablet to her as if anticipating her to want to inscribe something from the scroll she was considering, playing the part of a good, devoted servant carrying the possessions of his mistress; not anymore that of an educated male teacher as he had planned out of what was known of classical Greek culture.

They were not in Greece anymore; much less Kansas as the old Terran saying went.

Whatever you do, no eyerolling, Rita, the first officer thought to herself as she watched the less feminine members of the away team adopt roles which she personally found a bit cringe-worthy. But they were Starfleet officers on a mission, and they would do what it took. Soundlessly Rita took the disguised tricorder, which of course Sonak had already set to triangulate the transponder position. According to the signal, said transponder was apparently in the basement of the structure. Noting the position, the curvaceous commander absently handed the scroll back to the disguised science officer, then refocused on the shop clerk with that winning smile.

“Cat themes. Something genuinely unique, nothing seen hereabouts…” While she was good at many things, deception wasn’t one of Paris’ skills, nor was subterfuge. But desperate times, and the clock was ticking.

The shopkeep waggled her eyebrows at Rita. "Something along the lines of the Bast statues over here, perhaps?" She motioned to the semi-shrine to the cat goddess of feasting off to one side of the shop that seemed out of place in a city that worshiped Hera. "Since you all look a bit out of place and ask so blatantly at my humble herbal supply shop, am I to assume you're Starfolk?"

That smile turned a bit nervous as Rita took the calculated risk. Across the galaxy, trust had to be offered before it would be received. That much likely hadn’t changed since the last time she was in the field. Nodding her head, the supercentenarian space explorer agreed. “Yes, something very much like this. And no, we are definitely not from around here.” Please don’t be a trap please don’t be a trap please don’t be a trap Rita crossed her fingers and hoped for the best.

As the XO spoke to the shopkeeper, Asa shifted slightly to be obscured from view and reached into the "pocket" of their toga, reaching for a hidden sedative laced knife and holding hidden in their garment, but ready to throw a moments notice. The doctor knew how to score a hit that wouldn't cause any real damage to the woman, but would make her groggy enough to not be a threat. They shifted back and off to the side of Rita, keeping their visage downcast as befitting a servant of no importance.

The woman nodded in a friendly manner as she spoke, holding up some fresh herbs as if trying to sell them. "If you're Starfolk just like the great Meowlith, then please feel free. She said friends might be looking for her. I'm glad she was right."

That brought a genuine smile to the Starfleet siren's face, and she nodded her thanks to the shopkeeper as she led the landing party downstairs.

In the basement, which was surprisingly much larger than the structure above, dozens of women were gathered about, some seated on benches or chairs, but most seated on the floor. All were gathered to hear the white-robed figure at the back of the room, whose hood was pulled back to reveal distinctly feline facial features. Exiting the stairs and entering the room, Paris waved in greeting.

“Commodore Farenia Meowlith, I presume? Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris, of the USS Hera. I hope you have an amazing plan, because the clock is ticking, Commodore.” It wasn’t exactly her best entrance line, but it would have to do. Every minute that passed brought them all closer to annihilation, and any chance of succeeding on the ground lay with the clever commodore the landing party had finally located.

Pulling back the hood and removing the feline mask, the party was greeted by the face of a long-haired, smiling... Vulcan? She walked up to Rita and took her hand, forcing a handshake on the poor out of time commander. "Rita, Paris, I presume? It's a pleasure meeting you. I've heard about you from 'Nalia. Everyone, these are the friends, I told you about!"

"They're from the USS Hera! They're here to help liberate us from the false Hera!"